


It Doesn't Mean Anything

by stillnotovermylordsixth



Series: Given Valentine's Event 2020 [2]
Category: Given (Anime), Given (Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Car Accidents, Confusion, Embarrassment, Fear, Fluff, Friendship, Gentle touches, Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy, Light Angst, M/M, Minor Injuries, One-Sided Attraction, at least that's what haru thinks, no one is seriously hurt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-11
Updated: 2020-02-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:48:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22343575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stillnotovermylordsixth/pseuds/stillnotovermylordsixth
Summary: In the middle of a near-death experience, Haru doesn't have time to have his life flash before his eyes. He's too busy being jealous.DAY 2: TOUCH
Relationships: Kaji Akihiko/Nakayama Haruki
Series: Given Valentine's Event 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1607221
Comments: 9
Kudos: 180
Collections: Given Valentine's Event 2020





	It Doesn't Mean Anything

**Author's Note:**

> Also set in the early stages of their friendship ;)

Haruki’s favorite part about getting to ride on Aki’s motorcycle is the sense of absolute freedom he experiences when the wind whips his hair all over the place. Sure, he usually ends up looking like he got into a brawl with a vengeful bird, but that’s what the extra hairbrush in his messenger bag is for.

At least, that’s his favorite part until Aki decides to buy an extra helmet (half-helmet, really) and makes him _wear it_. His hair still looks awful by the end of every ride, but the feeling of freedom is gone.

Of course, the helmet isn’t for Haruki only; Aki has many passengers these days _—_ many “friends” who don’t stick around long enough to warrant a proper introduction _—_ and Haruki will never admit that he resents having to share that clunky helmet with every one of them. 

Because he knows what it means when Aki shows up to school with a new passenger hugging his waist while wearing the same clothes he wore the day before.

It turns Haruki’s stomach with jealousy, even though Aki clearly only sees him as a friend _—_ a friend to tease every now and then, sure, but a friend nevertheless _—_ and Haruki doesn’t expect that to change any time soon.

He doesn’t know why he agrees to ride with Aki when he has a car of his own. Scratch that. He knows exactly why. It’s the only time he has a good excuse to touch his crush without it being weird. Though he’s weirding himself out just by thinking about how creepy that is. How pathetic is it to jump at the tiniest opportunity to _platonically_ embrace his best friend?

_Ugh. I seriously need a girlfriend,_ he laments.

Mood significantly dampened, Haruki pays little attention to the traffic around him and vaguely thinks about how riding a motorcycle as a passenger is literally putting his life into someone else’s hands. It strikes him as odd that he’s not even a little worried when that someone is Aki.

Just then, he notices the light before them has turned red and he half-wishes his friend would run it because they’re going to be late for class. But Aki comes to a stop a few feet before the crosswalk. And just for the hell of it _—_ because there’s not much else to do except watch pedestrians cross the street _—_ Haruki bitterly recalls all the faces he’s seen sitting where he is right now _—_ arms tight around Aki’s waist _—_ in the past month alone. 

There’s the world-famous violinist who also happens to be Aki’s housemate and ex-boyfriend; the girl with the blue eyes and silky black hair who is _literally_ a model; the cute girl with the pixie cut whose legs go on forever; the basketball guy who towers over everyone on campus and whose legs _also_ go on forever _—_ seriously, where does Aki find all these beautiful people? Haruki doesn’t stand a chance _—_

A blasting horn behind them rips Haruki from his thoughts and he snaps his head back over his shoulder. He gasps when he witnesses the collision of a large fruit truck into a white sedan, only a few cars behind them. The impact is so powerful that it quickly spreads with a domino effect, and Haruki realizes with dread that Aki’s bike is about to be rear-ended into oncoming traffic.

Time certainly doesn’t slow down long enough for Haruki to see his life flash before his eyes or anything dramatic like that. In fact, the only thing that comes to mind when his heart sinks and his arms tighten around Aki’s waist is: _Oh, shit. This is it._

Then his body is moving.

He closes his eyes and braces himself for the fall _—_ because he _is_ falling, though not exactly in the direction he was expecting. 

The sudden wrenching motion of the bike sends him crashing to the ground, but it’s definitely not into oncoming traffic like he thought. When he opens his eyes again, he realizes he’s nowhere near the road at all, and the landing is definitely not as hard as he thought it would be. And after a puzzled moment, he figures out why that is.

Turns out, Aki’s reflex reaction to dodge the impact from behind was to drive onto the sidewalk beside them, but hitting the curb so suddenly had sent Haruki sprawling to the ground. Haruki would feel silly lying there, flat on his back, if he wasn’t so relieved. He lets out a long breath and drops his head _—_ heavy with the helmet _—_ back onto the sidewalk.

Aki, still on the bike, quickly turns it off and flips his face shield up.

"Haru! Are you okay?" 

Haruki gives him a distracted nod. His attention is focused on the four-vehicle wreck in front of him. The truck and two of the cars are totaled, twisted up and spilling their contents onto the road while vapor rises from their engines. The rear bumper of the car that was directly behind Aki's bike is crumpled too, but not to the same extent as the others, and Haruki notes that it has ended up a few feet past the crosswalk, which definitely would've been bad for them if Aki hadn't reacted so swiftly.

Haruki sits up in a daze as he conjures all the worst-case scenarios in his head. The surrounding noises _—_ distant shouts and creaking metal _—_ are so surreal, it feels like he's in the set of a drama.

"Haru? Hey, talk to me. Did you hit your head? Are you hurt?"

A sweaty hand on his cheek guides his face towards its owner, who is now kneeling beside him. Aki has removed his helmet, which means Haruki can see that all color has drained from his face. His mouth is set in a stiff line, eyes sharp with concern.

Haruki blinks at him for a moment. Aki's touch on his cheek is gentle but prodding, like he’s trying to ease him back to reality. Which reminds Haruki that there was a question in there somewhere.

"Uh, no," he replies, to which Aki frowns, unconvinced.

"Let me see," his friend mutters, and Haruki stupidly misses the hand on his cheek when Aki removes it to physically inspect him. 

"You liar. Look at this!" Aki scolds, bringing Haruki’s attention to his right hand by tugging at his wrist. 

Haruki looks down at his hand. Most of the palm and three of his fingers are scraped raw and trickling blood. A few tiny rocks have embedded themselves into the wounds and he pokes at them, but Aki smacks his fingers away.

“Stop it. Your hands are dirty.”

"Well, it's not _my_ fault," Haruki argues, feeling strangely defensive as he yanks his hand out of Aki's. " _You're_ the one who dropped me!"

The words slip out of his mouth before he can stop them, and he immediately regrets them when he watches hurt spreads across Aki's features.

The rational part of his brain is aware that the accusation is childish and stupid. But the irrational part is annoyed that calling attention to his hand has finally made him aware of how much it burns.

He’s also overwhelmed by a nagging feeling in his chest _—_ the very poorly-processed feeling that his entire life, all his hopes and dreams, his memories and experiences could've been extinguished in the blink of an eye. Aki _—_ his absolute favorite person _—_ could've ceased to exist in the blink of an eye too, and that's possibly the worst thing Haruki can imagine.

He's feeling grief, he realizes. Grief over something that didn't even happen.

Aki reaches under Haruki's chin to undo the strap of his helmet. And that's when Haruki notices the slight tremble in his friend’s hands. 

"Guess we’re gonna be late," Aki murmurs with a grin that doesn’t quite meet his eyes. He lifts the helmet off Haruki's head, tosses it to the side, then plops down beside him with a sigh. He fixes his eyes on the ground.

"I'm sorry," he says softly.

The words cut Haruki to the bone when it dawns on him that Aki must have been just as terrified during the whole ordeal. Maybe more so, if he thought his actions had injured his friend. 

Haruki wants to kick himself for reacting so selfishly. But there's not much he can do about that except apologize, so he inches closer to his friend and tentatively lifts his uninjured hand. He ignores the blaring warnings in his brain that this is a terrible idea and _goes for it,_ covering Aki’s hand with his own. He hears Aki’s breath hitch and feels his fingers twitch under his.

"I'm the one who should be sorry, Aki. I didn't mean to snap at you,” Haruki says in a hushed voice, a little worried that maybe he crossed a line with the contact. But he doesn’t let go before gazing up at Aki. “But I'm okay, really. Are you?"

Aki's initial shock seems to dissipate when their eyes meet. And suddenly, he’s tugging Haruki into his arms, squeezing the breath right out of him.

It’s Haruki’s turn to stiffen in surprise, but it only lasts a second. He shuts his eyes and slides his hands up over the back of Aki’s jacket.

"I’m glad you’re okay," Aki sighs, burying his face into his neck _—_ a gesture so intimate that it would have made Haruki squirm under different circumstances. But right now, he's too relieved to care. He’s alive and Aki’s alive _—_ perfectly unscathed _—_ in his arms. So Haruki savors the warm caress of Aki's breath on his skin and the way Aki's hand settles over his cheek, fingers tracing lightly along the angles of his face.

Haruki knows it’s only relief manifesting itself into touch. It doesn’t mean anything. But his stupid heart doesn’t know that. It races frantically in reaction to being held like this in Aki’s personal space, to being intoxicated by the pleasant scent of his skin and realizing that Aki is breathing him too.

He wants to soothe Aki’s worry. To tell him how fast and amazing his reaction was. If it had been Haruki driving, he knows fear would’ve frozen him in place. 

But before he can say any of that, a woman’s voice cuts through his thoughts.

“My goodness! That was terrible! I saw the whole thing! Are you two okay?”

Haruki’s not sure who lets go first, but one second he’s encompassed by warmth and the next, he’s alone, feeling strangely bereft without Aki’s body pressing against him.

“We’re fine, thank you,” Haruki grumbles in response, reluctantly turning his attention to the stranger.

The woman’s expression _—_ based on the lines of her face, he’d say she’s in her fifties _—_ is twisted with worry, and he can’t bring himself to be further annoyed by her interruption.

A small crowd of onlookers gathers around them while Aki pulls him to his feet. Haruki assumes the bystanders are mostly curious about the major wreck, but then the same woman gasps and points at his hand.

“Oh, dear! You’re bleeding!”

Haruki smiles awkwardly and tries to hide it, but there are other soft, concerned gasps from the crowd when they notice it, too.

“It’s nothing, really!” he says, but then they’re talking over him, and he can only catch bits and pieces as their voices overlap.

“ _—_ pharmacy’s too far _—_ ”

“ _—_ but doesn’t he have to stay _—_ ”

“ _—_ here in the shop, we have one _—_ ”

Then the woman addresses Haruki again, once it’s clear that his fate has been decided. 

“This gentleman has a first-aid kit in his shop,” she explains, pointing at a balding, middle-aged man wearing an apron then at the shop, a few yards back. “You should go with him, to get that cleaned up. I can help you, if you want.”

“Uh, I _—_ thank you, but _—_ really, it’s not necessary _—_ ”

“Haru,” Aki interrupts his protest with a hand on his shoulder. His face is serious _—_ it’d be terrifying if Haruki didn’t know him better _—_ when his hand clamps down. “Go. I’ll stay back in case I need to give a statement or something.”

Haruki frowns, feeling a bit helpless. It's so ridiculous that they're fussing over him when there are people stuck in the wrecked cars awaiting an ambulance. But there’s really no point in arguing if his friend and a bunch of strangers are going to gang up on him.

Then Aki’s expression softens, and with complete disregard for the audience around them, brings his hand up to graze his knuckles over Haruki’s cheek, much like he would a lover, before cradling his face in his palm.

Haruki holds his breath and feels color flood his entire face as he burns with embarrassment, but... there’s something else there, too _—_ Excitement? _Glee?_

He swiftly quashes those thoughts before they can lead him astray. 

_Don’t be stupid! He's just worried, like everybody else. It doesn’t mean anything._

But Aki’s smile is warm and contagious when he gives Haruki’s cheek two gentle pats. 

“Go on,” he repeats, and Haruki sighs in defeat, finally letting the concerned woman take hold of his elbow and tow him along to the old man’s shop.

He tells himself he only imagined the way Aki’s fingers lingered over his skin, just before they parted.


End file.
